Culture Shock
by Xanoka
Summary: Kuon's early days in Japan, creating Ren and carving out his future career.
1. All the world's a stage

Looking around the cavernous room, Kuon tried not to look as nervous as he felt. But really, it was as if the President had deliberately chosen it in all its magnificence to remind him how small he was in comparison. So far from home, late at night, in a strange place, he suddenly felt a lot younger, like a lost little boy. He glanced at the door, almost hoping to see his father appear to rescue him.

He shook himself firmly. He was fifteen and he could deal with this. It wasn't like he had been kidnapped or anything, he had chosen this. Coming to Japan, staying with Uncle Lory – _President Takarada_, he reminded himself_ – _he had chosen it. To escape from his father's shadow and his own mistakes, to forge a new path, and bury his old life, his old self. He could do this.

Thinking of his father did give him an idea, though. This ridiculous room was so over the top, it could almost be a film set, or a hired venue for a location shooting. He had seen plenty of both, trailing after one or the other of his parents while they worked throughout his childhood, and, of course, during his own disastrous attempt to enter the American film industry. Resolutely blocking that particular route down memory lane, he focused instead on the idea. This was a set. A particularly large, elaborate set. He was preparing for a role, gathering his character, while he waited for the director, Uncle Lory.

After all, in a way, it was no less than the truth. He wasn't just waiting for his father's friend in his mansion home. He was waiting for the mastermind behind this new start, who would direct him in the new life he was about to lead. And they weren't just going to discuss his plans for the immediate future, his career, his personal problems or his long-term goals. Together they were going to create his new character for the role he was going to perform in this strange theatre without walls, this limitless set. This crazy, dreamlike paradise of opportunity that was Tokyo. Or so it seemed to an emotionally worn, sleep deprived teenager, whisked through an intimidating array of security personnel from the airport, through the lights and neon of downtown Tokyo to the huge room in the massive mansion in which he now sat. This wasn't really happening. This wasn't his new reality. This was a play, an act.

And suddenly the whole scenario didn't seem so intimidating. He relaxed a little, enough to lean back more comfortably into his armchair. He was going to be a new person. He felt a thrill he hadn't felt in a long while, the thrill of building a character, exploring a new world through new eyes. Who would he be here? A reinvention of himself, without his faults? Polite instead of sarcastic, measured instead of impulsive, grounded instead of arrogant, patient and calm instead of short-tempered, gentle instead of violent. He would be a correction of himself.

This new self would erase all his mistakes, his old life. He'd take on the world, and his time, he would win.


	2. Landlords are a curse

Rent in Tokyo was quite amazing. Even here, for a ten tatami apartment in a fairly shabby building in a quieter Suginami neighbourhood. Ren surveyed his new kingdom doubtfully, mentally reviewing what he might need to buy whilst trying to ignore his new okami-san burning twin holes into the back of his neck.

He had been staying with Uncle Lory – _President Takarada _– for a couple of weeks since arriving in Japan, getting over his jet lag and submitting to a crash course in being Japanese. Of course, he had often spoken Japanese at home with his family, he had visited the country a few times and he had second-hand knowledge of many customs gleaned from his father, but he was swiftly coming to appreciate that he had a lot to learn before he could truly pass as a native.

And he had to.

Tsuruga Ren was Japanese. Completely. He wasn't going to be held back by any of the prejudice he had faced as Kuon. They were determined.

At least he looked Japanese now. The President's effervescent make-up artist Woods-san had dyed Kuon's hair almost as soon as he had arrived, though he was still getting used to the brown contacts. The constant shock of surprise he had initially felt every time he'd glimpsed his reflection had faded almost completely now, like the itching of new skin. He was ready to embrace his new identity.

Getting his own place was supposed to help with this. Being immersed in a typical Japanese neighbourhood, living like a typical Tokyoite, 'fending for himself' as Lory put it. He would really have to become his part; a young, rootless aspiring actor. Though, of course, he had the advantage other friendless aspiring actors lacked of having a guarantor in Lory. Or rather, Lory's taciturn assistant, since the man himself was apparently too recognisable to visit Tokyo's landlords.

And that was the other reason for the move. Ren Tsuruga was in no way connected to Lory Takarada. He was an unknown actor, without connections, recently arrived in Tokyo to pursue his dreams. He would audition to enter LME. He would not receive any special treatment or favours, so anything and everything he achieved would undeniably be built on his merit alone. He would not be in any way connected to the young, slightly bewildered foreigner who had stayed for a while with the President of LME. Nor was he likely to have the funds to stay anywhere in Tokyo that could be described as luxurious.

So here he was.

Kuon's new home comprised of a single room, two counting the tiny adjoining bathroom. He had already looked that over and was slightly dismayed, but not surprised after his recent research, to discover it housed a traditional Japanese bath and shower, being a deep tub and hose. The main room was completely unfurnished, apart from the sink, oven and stove, two cupboards and a work surface. They were all small, though that hardly mattered since he was unlikely to actually use them. He'd need to buy a futon, he reflected, and a fridge, for sure. He really only intended to sleep here, so nothing else currently seemed important, though his landlady's distracting presence might have been clouding his judgment.

He turned to face her now, with the gentle, polite smile he had been practising in front of the bathroom mirror firmly in place. It would be his trademark, he had decided, and it was going to carry him through any and all social situations, awkward or otherwise. After all, Tsuruga Ren would never be anything less than patient, polite and respectful towards an older lady, no matter how unreasonable or irascible she might be.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, okami-san?" he asked, carefully keeping any trace of sarcasm out of his voice.

She just sniffed, and continued to glower. Ren allowed himself to frown slightly, as if concerned before continuing.

"Is everything alright, okami-san? The paper work was all in order, wasn't it? And you have received the payment for my key money and deposit, haven't you? Have I forgotten anything? This is my first time living alone." He smiled what he hoped was a slightly sheepish, but disarmingly boyish smile. It usually worked.

But not this time. Instead her eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if he had just touched on what had been bothering her all along.

"It's strange," she stated bluntly. "A boy like you living alone. How old are you, boy?"

Kuon had to hold his breath for a long moment. _Tsuruga Ren. Tsuruga Ren. Tsuruga Ren._

He focused on smiling his friendly, polite, not-at-all-offended smile and replied smoothly, if mendaciously. "I'm eighteen, okami-san. And I suppose it is a little strange. But I don't have any family." He smiled sadly, and was careful to drop his head a little as he spoke, allowing his fringe to fall into his eyes in what was hopefully an endearingly vulnerable posture. Sure, playing the poor, lonely orphan card was a cheap shot, but gaining a sympathetic, helpful landlady would be a blessing at this stage, especially as he was still trying to acclimatise to living in Japan.

His hopes were immediately crushed, however, as her hard, bony hand seized his chin and jerked his head up roughly.

"Don't think that'll work on me, boy," she hissed. I've seen your type before. I expect you think with your pretty face you can come here and do whatever you want. Runaways!" When he didn't reply, too shocked to respond, she continued, sneering. "Kids like you are all the same. Think a smile and a little sob story pays for rent? Think you can just leave home, come to Tokyo, and what? I doubt you even finished high school! Or have a job. How do you think you're going to pay rent? Well, I'm telling you now, I am not a charity. You can't pay, you'll be out on the street!"

By some miracle the smile was still in place, though it must have been several degrees colder. His face was starting to hurt from the effort. Pulling away from her grip and taking a step backwards, Ren carefully and unnecessarily smoothed his shirt before replying. Charm wasn't working, it was time for the cool, direct approach.

"Okami-san, I beg your pardon if I have offended you, but you are mistaken. I am not a runaway. I have no family. But you've met my guarantor. You know I can pay. I have savings, and I have work, so please don't concern yourself on that score. In fact I've already paid your key money, a deposit and a month's rent upfront, just as you asked. Or was there a problem with the payment?" He met her eye squarely, daring her to say anything. He knew for a fact that there hadn't been.

She bristled, as if he and not she had been unrelentingly rude. Though, a corner of Kuon's mind had to acknowledge that his tone had ended up being more biting than Ren's should have been.

He had to be more careful.

So, in an attempt to remedy the situation, he bowed carefully. It still felt strange, and he hoped it didn't look as awkward as it felt. President Takarada had assured him he was getting much better. When he straightened up he added in a milder tone, "Is there anything else you need, okami-san?"

She surveyed him haughtily, then snapped, "Rent is due on the first of the month."

He nodded and bowed again. "Thank you. I look forward to being your tenant. Please take care of me. Oh, and have a good evening."

The words rolled strangely off his tongue, but she sniffed, seeming to accept the familiar Japanese platitude, then left without saying another word.

Kuon sighed, immensely relieved to be free of her. But as the silence settled around him, he began to feel uneasy. Without the distraction of his landlady's presence, the reality of the situation was creeping in to strangle him.

It was in the whirring of bicycles, indistinct voices calling out to each other on the street and the growl of cars passing as commuters headed home. With the sound of every one of his breaths and the thudding of his heart loud in his ears, he could feel it ever more distinctly.

He was alone.


End file.
